


Death Was Never Sweeter

by Aikatsu



Category: Girl Meets World
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-22
Updated: 2016-10-22
Packaged: 2018-08-23 23:02:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8346250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aikatsu/pseuds/Aikatsu
Summary: “But as for my new shirt, I think I’ll take it off myself.”





	

“I like you shirt,” she interrupted loudly, “may I have it?”

Farkle blinked at the abruptness of the exclamation, brows furrowing as he turned to look at the girl. Riley was sitting at attention, nose in the air, and determinedly staring towards the ceiling. She could pass for one of the queen’s guard if not for the faint pinkness of her cheeks.

“What?” He questions with a laugh earning a look from the girl.

Riley folds her arms and scrunches up her nose. Her glare bores into him. Farkle’s unphased by it instead quirking a brow and wearing an amused smile. “You don’t need it,” she responds quickly, trying to find logic

Farkle glanced down at himself. “I think I do,” he retorts, “I’m pretty sure that it’s a law that you have to wear t-shirts into a store. And I’d hate to tell your parents why I’m suddenly shirtless… in their store… with their daughter being the only other person in the front right now. I like living and I like my shirt.”

She’s practically pouting at him by now and refusing to uncross her arms. Farkle leans back in his seat continuing to give the girl a perplexed look. Riley doesn’t reward him a look back as she moves to angrily turn a page in her psychology textbook before her.

“It says here that people feel better when they trade clothes,” she recited as knowledgeably as she could, “it makes them feel closer to people and less lonely. Therefore it increases serotonin levels which is never bad.

Farkle frowned glancing between Riley in the book more perplexed than before. “It doesn’t say that,” he starts moving his hand to grab the book, “for one an increase of serotonin can cause headaches, drowsiness, infections, any number of thi– OW!”

He squeaks the exclamation out pulling his hand back quickly as one Riley Matthews glared at him and slammed the book shut on it. “It does too,” she huffs as he nurses the reddening hand before him. He casts her a glare of his own before getting up from the counter.

“Where are you going?” she calls.

Farkle scoffs, shaking his hand, “Away from you! You crazy person!”

“I am not a crazy person,” Riley shouts, folding her arms across her chest.

“..So says the crazy person trying to break people’s hands,” he shoots back, turning back to face her, “why do you want my shirt anyway?”

Riley purses her lips in response to his question. She doesn’t say anything to him nor does she look towards him, leaving her eyes cast once more to the ceiling. In turn Farkle tucks his hands into the pocket of his hoodie and refused to look away. This was a timeless battle between them—The whole trying not to tell the other person what was on their mind. It always ended with the person avoiding the whole thing spilling their guts. He just had to wait it out.

Some minutes pass before the girl pipes up, “Do you think it would be cliché if we started matching clothes a little?”

More confused than he was before, Farkle shifted his weight before stepping closer to the bar they’d been sitting at. “I don’t understand,” he admits shrugging his shoulders.

“It’s just…” Riley hesitates to find the words she’s looking for, “we’ve been dating for almost two years now. All of our friends know it, but anyone else doesn’t seem to understand we’re a couple. Like that old couple earlier who commented how we bickered like an old married couple. They were surprised when we told them we were one and we’d be friends for years—And how we plan to get married after high school. It’s ridiculous!”

Farkle had at first found himself nodding along until he can’t help but laugh at how upset his practical fiancee was. Taking the hand she slammed in a book minutes prior he moved to take her hand. It’s only then the girl turns to look at him features wavering.

“What does that have to do with us wearing similar clothing?” He inquires.

“They’ll know we’re a couple,” she responds promptly.

“…I think I have a better way, actually.”

“How?”

Farkle grins mischievously stepping until he’s nearly flesh against her. One hand entwines with the other he’s holding while the free one moves to cup her cheek. He hears her let out a soft ‘oh’ when she realizes his intent. They were always like this, a surprise to each other, but they both loved every moment of it. When he finally presses his lips against hers it’s without hesitation that Riley returns it, wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

They stay wrapped up in their own little world for a few more moments before Riley breaks the kiss. “Not bad,” she hums, “but I still want your shirt.”

“…You really do want to be a widow before you’re even a bride, huh,” he whispers back with a shake of his head, “alright, I give. You can have it.”

He’s smart enough to step away from the embrace this time as Riley throws her arms out with a loud “YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY!” soundboard offing the entire room. He’d learned his lesson the first time when she accidentally hit him in the face and gave him a blackeye. Farkle thought he’d never live through the laughter of his friends.

Leaning back against the bar, the boy folded his arms against his chest as she let her excitement out of her system. His grin both loving and adoring watching his girlfriend spin around the room. When she’s finally done she turns to him with the same goofy grin he fell in love with. Arms folding in front of her he couldn’t help but feel like he was in the presence of the sun. The warmth only growing warmer as she walked towards him.

“I love you, Farkle,” she sing-songs.

The smile tugs even more on his lips, “And I love you.”

She tilts her head contently before her eyes sparkle with mischievousness. Riley reaches up and presses a light kiss on his cheek. He expects her to pull away but instead she shifts to whisper in his ear, “But as for my new shirt, I think I’ll take it off myself.”

He flushes brilliantly at that gasping out the only phrase he can verbalize, “Oh boy.”

She really would be the death of him.


End file.
